to whisper in their presence
by Lady September
Summary: It may be the wrong Melody Pond he's found, but it's exactly the right River Song. doctor/river, post-6x07.


"The stars know everything  
>So we try to read their minds.<br>As distant as they are,  
>We choose to whisper in their presence."<br>—Charles Simic

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**to whisper in their presence**

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In the eve of Demon's Run he goes to find her and, naturally, finds the wrong her.

He aims for America, circa nineteen-sixty-nine, so he's not surprised when he opens the doors to find himself somewhere completely different. It's a good day, a Wednesday. Darkness is falling around him: the two suns are settling and the air is fresh and crisp. The great big luxury space liner—based on the Orient Express from Earth—is on its maiden voyage, the Demeter family is halfway through the longest birthday celebration ever known and the slug-shaped aliens on Via Ariteas pass a law against eating other aliens which is ground-breaking among their kind. But here it's quiet and calm. He sniffs the air. No, no revolution for at least another twenty years.

It's a regular street, nothing especially strange with it, carefully designed to look like Earth twenty-first century. He takes a step out of his TARDIS and turns around to lock the door, wondering what he's doing here. His oldest friend is never wrong, though—he trusts he's where he's supposed to be.

The air behind him crackles suddenly, time warping, and when he turns back River falls into his arms.

He's taken off-guard but manages to catch her, surprise and worry mingling immediately as he feels her weight in his arms. "River?" he says, horror creeping into his voice. "River, what's going on?"

She finds her footing and raises her head to look at him, but that doesn't make him any less worried. There is a cut across her right cheek, what he's pretty sure is a bruise forming around her left eye, dark circles under both of them and her hair is damp with something he doesn't recognise. He hopes it isn't blood.

Nevertheless River smiles at him. "Hello, sweetie," she says, her voice a little off-kilter. "Knew you'd catch me."

Even if it doesn't completely sound like her there's still something in her voice that assures him that she's fine, that she'll be alright and that it really isn't as bad as it looks. He's not sure how he manages to pick up on that.

He shakes his head, frowns. "What happened?" he asks. He feels a little calmer, now that she's affirmed that while she's banged up and tired, she's fine in every other sense.

"Got into a bit of trouble with some Judoon," she tells him casually, as if she's talking about the weather. Amusement twirls in her eyes when she meets his. "You were there," she adds with a weak chuckle.

"I'm sure I was," he murmurs under his breath without really paying attention to what he's saying as he remembers something he's been wondering for the past couple of hours. He has to test a theory. He places a hand softly to her chest, feels one heart under his palm, and then he moves it slightly and, _yes_, there's the other one. "You've regenerated," he says, his voice full of wonder as he lifts his head to stare at her. "There's no second heart until the first regeneration."

"I really don't mind getting felt up, sweetie," she says with a wry smile. "But maybe you can wait until we're not quite so in public."

He flushes like a school boy, remembers where he is and why. There are no sleeves on her dress and he can see ugly marks slowly taking form there. It makes him worry about what she gets up to when he's not there to carefully hold her back enough not to get hurt—he flinches when he thinks how her parents would react to this. "Is there anywhere we can go? Some place we can bandage you up?"

She watches him for a second, like she can see right through him and all his thoughts lie bare for her. "Yes," she finally says, gestures with one hand to one of the pretty little houses. "That one's mine."

Without remarking on the strangeness of the situation he leaves the TARDIS on the street while he helps her over to her lawn, up the stairs and to the door. She insists that she'll be fine on her own but he doesn't want to leave.

So he waits in the sitting room while she showers, sat firmly and stiffly on the couch. His eyes wander through the room and he catches sight of a photo—the two of them together, laughing at something he doesn't know yet—and crosses the room in long strides to push it down. _Spoilers _and this house is sure to be full of them, but he needs some answers and who knows how long it'll be before he comes across her again?

He's not going anywhere tonight.

Instead he continues to wait impatiently for her. When she's finished her shower she calls for him and he hesitantly make his way through the house to her bedroom. She's standing with her back to him, dressed in sweatpants and a tank top, the blue book holding his future in her hands. She doesn't pretend to feel better than she does—she's dead tired and he sees that immediately.

"Where are we, then?" she asks, trying to place him just by looking at him.

He hesitates, the events still fresh in his mind, but only for a moment. "Demon's Run," he answers, watches carefully as her face changes. "Just a couple of hours ago."

"Oh." Understanding makes its way across her face. "So that's why you were so interested in my hearts."

Before he knows it she's in front of him and then she wraps her arms around him, offering comfort again, and he greedily takes it. The way Amy looked at him burns when he closes his eyes and he shudders slightly. It's all his fault, he knows that, but he'll do whatever it takes to make it right again. He's sorry, so _sorry_, for the Ponds and the way he's ruined them.

He opens his mouth to tell her. "I—"

"Don't you _dare _apologise," she cuts him off sharply.

So he doesn't. Instead he makes a sound in the back of his throat and burrows his head in her shoulder as if he's never letting go. He's not quite sure when it happened but somehow River's found her way into every little part of his life. He's not sure he'll ever want to let her go.

(But he has to, remember, the library and everything that's meant to happen there.)

The Doctor isn't sure how long they stand there, doesn't want to know. It can be seconds or years for all he cares. Finally he clears his throat and attempts to back away slightly. "And you?" he asks even as his eyes dart down to her lips, because she knows where he is but he's not sure what she's done. "Where are you?"

"Crash of the Byzantium," she tells him, shakes her head. "Although I made a quick stop at my parents on my way back."

That's new information and he latches onto it immediately, so fast that he can see the regret in her eyes at having told him. He doesn't have time to feel down. This is something he can bring back to his best friends.

"You keep in touch with them?"

She ignores the question altogether and shakes her head instead. "You really shouldn't be here," she chides, glancing around as if she's afraid that things will fall apart just because they aren't the way she thinks they should be. "Our lives are back to front, Doctor. We're travelling in opposite directions. We have to keep it that way. No cheating."

He narrows his eyes. "That's stupid," he tells her matter-of-factly. "Who told you that?"

"Who'd you think?" There's a smile on her lips and then she turns around and starts moving toward the bed. "Well, I suppose we can make an exception from the rule," she teases over her shoulder. "But only this one time."

He catches the promise of a million other exceptions and wonders. Maybe he'll be able to right all the wrongs—find her after the Angels or wherever she escaped to after Amy and Rory's wedding. (Oh dear, she attends her parents' wedding. How's that for spoilers?)

"River," he says when she begins to crawl into bed and he turns away slightly, not sure where to look. "What are you doing?"

"I still have to sleep, sweetie," she reminds him with a fond tone. "I'm not like you. I can't survive on little-to-none." She smiles at him from underneath the covers. The bed looks comfortable. "Come join me."

He frowns. "River—"

"Please," she interrupts again. "Indulge me."

Sighing, the Doctor slips out of his jacket—lets it land unceremoniously on the floor—and out of his black boots as he makes his way over to the bed. He takes off the braces and the bowtie, leaving them on her bedside table, but leaves the shirt and his trousers on as insurance.

She smiles softly and closes her eyes. "Don't worry. You told me to go easy on you."

"Spoilers, River Song," he admonishes and taps her nose briefly before he slips in under the covers.

It takes a little time of figuring out how they fit together—on his side—and she lets him take his time, realise what works and what doesn't, until he settles comfortably with an arm around her as she curls up into him. His fingers find their way into her glorious hair and he plays with strands of it without really noticing, mind occupied with the new situation he finds himself in.

He realises he doesn't mind it, not one bit. Instead it is just what he needs.

This River is so different from the one who brought him back to the ground on Demon's Run, who made sure he knew what he has become. She breathes deeply against him, shows him that she trusts him to keep her safe while she sleeps. River doesn't trust anyone, but she trusts him.

It may be the wrong Melody Pond he's found, but it's exactly the right River Song.

He chuckles. "You're exactly like me," he tells her in a quiet voice. Nights of rest are rare to him and he relishes in this one, in the way she fits against him. "I'm not alone anymore."

"You've never been alone," she reprimands. "You always have pretty girls with you. That's not being alone in my book."

"Are you jealous, River Song?" he teases her, momentarily forgetting the heartache and the pain and the realisation of what he's done to the world—the lives he's ruined, the destruction he's caused. It disappears in the banter between the two of them and maybe that's her goal.

She hides her smile in his chest. "Not even a little."

"Time Lady," he says.

"Human plus," she corrects.

"_Time Lady_," he insists.

He lets his eyes wander around the room, feeling at peace. Tomorrow he'll get back to searching, to feeling bad, but for now he wants to revel in having her near. He knows who she is and that in itself is a miracle—she's all his, practically created for him. They're not near the end, they're somewhere in the middle, and there is so much story between them left to discover.

Breathing in, he muses, "What is this place, anyway?"

"I lived here when I studied," River answers him after a moment. "A… long time ago, now," she continues and he believes her because she can live forever if she wants to. "I really like it, even if I spend most of my time travelling. It's nice to have this to come back to."

"When you studied archaeology?" he says with dismay. "Why would you choose that horrid career?"

There's warmth in her voice. "You'll figure it out soon enough," is all she's willing to tell him. He doesn't mind it, quite likes her knowledge of his future even if his knowledge of hers hurts.

"I don't find you, do I?" he asks in a low voice.

"You've got to let things play out the way they're supposed to, my love," she chides him gently, because he already knows this—knows it in his hearts, but he can't tell his friends. He can't tell Amy and Rory to let their daughter go until they've found her.

Shaking his head, he grips her tighter. "I _can't_."

"I know," she soothes in a hushed whisper.

There's a brief pause as he closes his eyes and tries to focus on anything but what he has to do and she seems to know that there's a battle going on inside of him. She's had a lot more time to figure him out than he has her.

"You'll be fine. You always are."

"Not always."

(_Because you invited us to see it_, Amy says. _Your death_.)

"Almost always," she amends.

He hums and thinks of the future, of what will happen and what he'll tell Amy and Rory. He'll have to try even if the TARDIS doesn't want to, has to find that little girl who he saw in the space suit, because she's Melody Pond and she's all alone. She's so alone that she calls a President for help. There's something horrible about that scenario and he's not sure if he can live with himself if he doesn't try to change it. Time can be rewritten, after all, and maybe he'll find some way to bring River back to her parents. He won't know if he doesn't try.

It's dark outside her window, now. He can see the faint glow of stars from the night sky. It's a reassuring sight.

He can turn this around.

When he's sure she's asleep he focuses on the sound of River herself, the way her two hearts steadily beat in her chest. There's a story there, but he doesn't want to pressure it out of her and he'll make sure he's there when it happens, anyway. Seeing someone else regenerate again… He can't quite wrap his mind around the idea.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers. He's been so convinced that he would never meet another like him again that it feels like a gift, an extraordinary present, to have River Song this close to him. He's in awe.

She breathes out. "Thank you."

He tenses slightly. "You're awake?"

"Not really," she mumbles.

He smiles when she moves in closer and presses a kiss to the top of her head. "Sleep, River," he tells her and she takes his advice, exhausted after the day's activities, sighs and stills. He promises her silently that he'll still be here when she wakes up. She has nothing to worry about.

It is a pretty place, he thinks as he looks around the room once more. He must remember to buy it for her.

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_lady-september[.]tumblr[.]com_

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